


Quintessence

by DeeNuke



Category: 19天 - Old先 | 19 Days - Old Xian
Genre: 19 Days - Old Xian, 19 Days old xian, 19 days - Freeform, 19daysmanhwa, 19天 - Freeform, 19天 - old先, 19天 Old先, BL, Brother Qiu - Freeform, Chengqiu - Freeform, Dancing, Fluff, He Cheng - Freeform, HeChengxBrotherQiu, HeChengxQiu, Hecheng/qiu, Jazz - Freeform, M/M, Manhwa, One Shot, Pre-Relationship, Quintessence, Short One Shot, brotherqiu, hecheng, old xian, oldxian, oldxian19days, oldxian_ox, old先
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:27:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29965659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeeNuke/pseuds/DeeNuke
Summary: What if He Cheng is actually a good dancer and only Qiu knows about it?
Relationships: ChengQiu, He Cheng/Brother Qiu (19 Days), He Cheng/Brother Qiu (19天), He Cheng/Qiu, He Cheng/Qiu (19 Days), He Cheng/Qiu (19天), 贺呈/丘哥, 贺呈/丘哥 ( 19天)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 26





	Quintessence

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a headcanon @harucchiyan (IG) and I discovered we share.

Cao Cao was a Chinese warlord and statesman. More so, he was the penultimate grand chancellor of the Eastern Han dynasty who rose to great power in its final years. As one of the central figures of the Three Kingdoms period, he laid the foundations for what was to become the state of Cao Wei and - ultimately - the Jin dynasty and was posthumously honoured as "Emperor Wu of Wei" although he never was an emperor during his lifetime.

He had remained a controversial historical figure and was often portrayed as a cruel and merciless tyrant but also praised as a brilliant ruler and military genius with that typical unrivalled charisma/ Apparently all such rules had that and surprisingly, despite their cruelty, they always treated their subordinates like his family. Though, the fact remained; he had been so brutal that through to modern times, the Chinese equivalent of the English idiom _‘speak of the Devil’_ had become _‘speak of Cao Cao and Cao Cao arrives.’_

What most people don’t know about Cao Cao, though, is that he had also been very skilled in poetry, calligraphy and martial arts - because that’s what you need to be to succeed. Add a spark of lethal skills to your mushy side, and you’re good to go. Beside writing many war journals, he also added some poetic remarks to none other than Sun Tzu’s: ‘The Art of War’. Needless to say, Cao Cao is still remembered amongst the most eminent rulers of imperial China... so maybe that was He Cheng’s purpose, too. 

Though it seemed to Qiu that that sort of curriculum was a must in order to be successful in his line of work, especially if that line of work involved taking over other clans, keeping appearances, chasing power, waging war - on bigger or smaller scales - and having guns at your disposal… lots of guns. While Qiu did not possess such a resume and was not in a hurry to update his portfolio in such a manner, Qiu thought that his boss, He Cheng, was a bit similar to the Chinese rulers ‘of old’.

The older brother of the two siblings, Cheng, handled most of the family business those days. He had grown up fast, maybe too fast, so now he had become a man that smiled little as though his face would crack if he indeed showed emotion. In fact, it was rumoured that Qiu had been the only person to see an adult Cheng smile and the reason for that was still unknown to many. To Qiu’s and Cheng’s annoyance, his younger brother’s friends seemed to not pay much attention to him, allowing themselves just a little too much around him.

Even if most of them described him, to his face nevertheless, having an aura akin to "danger, even with the slightest provocation" and giving off "bad vibes", the kids treated his presence as nothing more than an annoying parent. It was impressive how much courage ignorance could give a fool. Then again, not much was known about Cheng other than that he cared about his younger brother, He Tian… something that the idiot was either not aware of, or had a hard time accepting.

Truth was, not many people even knew Cheng’s age, so Qiu had never cared about what others thought of Cheng. Though, those little things were also very well hidden. Some could be used as aces in different situations, others were deemed unimportant while other things were completely erased from living memory if possible. One of those ‘top-secret’ things about Cheng regarded some of his humanly, everyday passions. 

It had been one of those things Qiu had realised as he had slowly put together the puzzle Cheng was. After years of knowing someone, and if one paid attention to the little things, even a man like Cheng became less of a mystery. But when one says ‘little things,’ they really meant little. We're talking about stuff like a slight change in the expression, or posture, or even the inability to pay attention. For a guy like Cheng, displaying such mannerism could sometimes mean losing the upper hand in a situation, so no, as far Qiu was concerned, this was rarely done.

Being a witness to this had become a bit of a quest for Qiu, though. The first time it had happened was after an argument Cheng had had with his father. He had kept his anger under control in a way that it had startled his father’s bodyguards. It was as though they had underestimated Cheng up until that moment, and then, they finally understood who he was… or what he was made of. 

Though, the moment Cheng had finally arrived home, Qiu had expected to see someone shot or at least a good number of random objects to be destroyed. Instead, Cheng had sent everyone in the house home, closed himself in his study and… listened to music. That is 1940’s and 1950’s music, likes of Frank Sinatra, Chuck Berry, Bing Cosby, but also, some of his all-time favourite, Zhou Xuan, Yao Li, or Wu Yingyin, three of the seven most famous Chinese artists who back then had gained nationwide popularity. None of Qiu’s favourites.

That was what Cheng was into. He would listen to Jazz while drinking and thinking things over. Jazz and Swing, Cheng's favourites, were like indulging in dark chocolate and sweet liqueur. Duke Ellington, Benny Goodman or Count Basie were some of the choices that would help calm him down. That form of jazz, with emphasis on the offbeat, or weaker pulse seemed to put Cheng in a better mood. That is when Qiu had first seen it. That day he had been the only one allowed to stay, so sitting in an armchair in the corner of Cheng's study, while the boss was drinking a glass of whisky, Qiu had noticed him.

It started with a deep sigh, and clenched jaws, and more annoyed sighs. But as the music progressed, it all turned to something else. Eyes closed, glass in his hand, legs crossed, Cheng faintly started to smile and then all of a sudden he started moving his foot to the beat, following the rhythm of the song. So the big, bad hound could be tamed somehow. Like Ferdinand, the character of the animated short from the 1930s, the bull who liked to smell flowers instead of fighting in the arena, Cheng would seek refuge in music; those were his nice-smelling flowers.

Or at least that’s what Qiu had thought. The day got even weirder with a confession. It was then when Cheng turned in his chair and gave Qiu one of those rare smiles. It was one of the saddest smiles Qiu had ever seen in his entire life and probably the saddest he was going to see from anyone in his lifetime. 

“Do you know the tune?” Cheng asked and looked at Qiu.

“No,” Qiu instantly replied, while shaking his head, “I’m strictly 70’s rock scene, sir…,” he said, “maybe with some few exceptions,” he added as though to be sure Cheng understood where he stood on the matter.

“It’s ‘Quintessence’…,” Cheng took a sip from his whisky, “from the 1930s…,” he added like a wine connoisseur who could guess even the type of grape used to make the damn thing just by tasting it.

“Who played it?” Qiu asked, feigning interest but not really caring, just hoping that the odd atmosphere was going to tone down a little.

“Pretty much everyone,” Cheng tilted his head from one side to the other, stretching, trying to elevate the tightness in his shoulders. “It’s one of the greatest jazz classics and it was still played in different cover versions well into the 60s…,” he added. 

“I wouldn’t know, sir,” Qiu said, and Cheng nodded at him before raising his glass and then taking another sip of whisky.

“Yes, it seems you know little, Qiu…,” he said silently.

Hearing him, Qiu suddenly felt mildly uncomfortable or maybe even annoyed. Was he going to be lectured in Jazz history now? Because he was really not in the mood for such a pointless hassle, though, a more relaxed conversation with Cheng turned out to be rather pleasant if not for the way he was being stared at and the way his body reacted each time their eyes met.

“What’s that supposed to mean, sir?” Qiu asked and turned his eyes to him.

“It means exactly that, my dear Qiu,” Cheng mockingly said, then with a sigh, he bowed his head as though he realised how unfairly he had reacted. It was odd, to say the least, to not be able to control his reactions around Qiu. He was doing such a good job around anyone else, yet Qiu had slowly started to see everything; his anger, his rage, his sadness… Qiu was starting to see all of him.

“My… apologies," Cheng quickly added. "That was uncalled for,” he continued. “You’ll have to forgive me...”

“Forgiven,” Qiu answered in a heartbeat and bowed his head in return.

Eyes on Qiu, Cheng remained silent, observing him. Qiu was the star of his pack, tall, handsome, capable and above all, loyal. Men and women wanted his attention if not company… something that Cheng realised that he did not like to think about. He pursed his lips a little, then finally looked away. Grabbing the pack of cigarettes from the desk, he took one out and lit it. “How long have we known each other Qiu?” Cheng finally spoke again.

“Many years,” Qiu quickly answered, "too many some could say...," then pondered, “or maybe not enough…,” he added, tensing a little. 

“Bingo!” Cheng pointed at him. “Yet you know so little about me.”

“I cannot say that’s my problem or fault…,” Qiu said and suddenly felt like slapping himself for that remark.

Raising one eyebrow, Cheng glanced at him as though he had not liked to hear that answer. “Bingo again!” he said though and tiredly breathed out.

“I suppose you still don’t trust me enough for that to happen,” Qiu heard himself speak again and now felt like standing up and just walking away. What the hell had gotten into him that day? Yes, he could just excuse himself and be done with it. But doing that was considered an offence. Though Qiu couldn’t tell what was more offensive, him walking away or the way he was suddenly answering Cheng as though he was a frustrated lover that had been left in the dark and forgotten.

Hearing him, Cheng tilted his head to the side. “Interesting…,” he mockingly smiled, “Do I detect some anger in there?” he sniffed.

Taking a deep breath, Qiu had to briefly calm down and ponder his answer. “I suppose frustration, sir…,” he said, swallowing hard.

“Even more interesting, Cheng added. ”But fair enough…,“ he quickly went on and drew in a deep breath, inhaling the smoke. “As a token for your patience and trust, I’ll give you something embarrassing then,” he briefly looked away as though he really felt ashamed. “It is a highly guarded secret so maybe this can feel like a good deal to you then…,“ he turned with his chair so that now Qiu could see only his profile.

Listening, Qiu said nothing. Was this really necessary? Why now? What changed? But his curiosity had been piqued; there were not many things that could be appointed to Cheng and be called embarrassing, and there were even fewer people able to say they knew such things. He could use this against him at some point… maybe… but the thought made him sigh, or maybe, the realisation that he didn’t want to consider betraying him was what had made him swallow hard.

“It isn’t an easy thing to give your loyalty to someone who chooses to reveal nothing of themselves, no?” Cheng suddenly said and drew in a deep breath.

It was as though those words had triggered something inside him. So Cheng was aware of how guarded he was even in his presence and whatever the small thing was now willing to reveal was indeed a token of trust bestowed on him. Making a soft sound, Qiu faintly nodded, agreeing with Cheng, “The strength of a family, like the strength of an army, is in its loyalty to each other, sir…,” he said and nodded once more.

“Family?” Cheng asked and turned to look at Qiu. He saw him instantly tense as though he had said something wrong. “We’re indeed that…,” he quickly added wanting to see that relaxed expression on Qiu’s face again. “And yet you still call me ‘sir’,” he tilted his head to the side a little, his expression softening.

Relaxing a little as he heard that last part, as he noticed that mild change in Cheng’s stance and expression, Qiu exhaled relieved, “I was not aware I should call you something else…,”

“My name, Qiu. I do have a name…,” Cheng said and leaned back into his chair. “Or you’ve forgotten it already?”

Watching Cheng mildly stretch like a bored cat, Qiu sniffed. “Not at all… Cheng…,” Qiu forced himself, feeling mildly odd suddenly needing to drop the formalities. “So what is it that you would like to confess?” he asked, swallowing hard.

Eyes on Qiu, Cheng smiled again. Was he really going to tell him something so stupid and unimportant? Cheng thought and sighed. Wetting his lips, feeling his throat dry, he finally nodded to himself. Yes, why not? This little thing had been indeed beaten out of him as a teenager. As the heir of the He clan, such common passions were seen unbecoming, so why not say it? Fuck it, might as well have a good laugh about it.

“I like dancing…,” Cheng suddenly said with an ever wider smile on his lips, “or more likely, I liked dancing…,” he corrected himself. “And I was very good at it, too,” Cheng finally admitted. 

One brow rising, the words slowly sinking in, Qiu pondered, trying to slot that information where it belonged. Was Cheng taking the piss now? Was he making fun of him? Was this another mind game? Yet the mental image he suddenly had would have easily made him burst into laughter, and he realised then why Cheng had labelled that piece of information as an embarrassing one. In any other normal situation, with another person, this was an addition to someone’s character, but with Cheng, this seemed so off, so odd that it was almost comical.

Yet, the amusement in Qiu’s mind lasted little. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense, the more… it suited him. The demeanour, the style, the music he listened to in secret, it was all coming together... another piece of the puzzle. 

“And? Qiu heard himself speak? Can you still do it?” he suddenly asked, blinking confused at his own question. 

It seemed that his words had had the same effect on Cheng because he turned and blinked at Qiu, then lowered his eyes as though he had remembered something dear to him. 

“I do,” he said and sighed but said nothing more, faintly smiling as though happy to hear Qiu's reply when he had expected to be mocked. Strange that he had not jumped at that chance.

Silence fell over the room while the song, “Quintessence”, was still playing, Qiu realised. 

“Well…,” Qiu swallowed hard, “maybe sometime you’ll teach me how to do it, too, si--," he paused, "I mean, Cheng…,” he quickly corrected himself, felling a mild hollowness in his stomach.

His words surprised him as much as they had surprised Cheng because the man, once more, stared at him confused. The moment of silence continued, then Cheng suddenly smiled, genuinely so, and Qiu felt the knot in his throat. 

“Certainly…,” Cheng answered, then turned fully in his chair as though he had had enough of revealing himself to Qiu and was now too vulnerable to even look him in the eyes. “Though, if you don’t mind, I would like a moment alone now, if you please…,” he added, suddenly feeling dizzy, hoping it was just the alcohol adding to the day’s events.

Lowering his eyes a little, Qiu suddenly smiled to himself. Without a word, he stood up and walked up to where the radio was and turned the volume up. It got another reaction from Cheng as he saw him shift in his chair, but this time their eyes didn’t meet. Faintly smiling, Qiu bowed his head even if Cheng could not see him. “Then I shall wait for that moment,” he said. He straightened up, briefly glanced towards Cheng once more then left the study, closing the door behind him.


End file.
